by Ashley Meira
That, I believed. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if Damien had volunteered the information without any coercion on his father’s part. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he conked me over the head and threw me in the trunk of his Ferrari the moment I left the cafe. That might have been unfair, but I wasn’t feeling particularly generous today, especially toward him.
“What did he say to that?” Fiona asked softly, her cotton-candy flavored magic swirling around. She was tough, but there was no way she could take on Damien by herself, especially since he could sense her magic getting ready to strike.
He glanced at her clenched hands before saying, “He wants to hire her.”
“No,” I blurted out immediately as my friends deflated next to me. Except Symeon, who looked equal parts bored and annoyed about being out of the loop.
Damien frowned, furrowing his brow. “Why?”
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to believe Adam would be very upset if I brutally murdered his brother. “You know why.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. Guess it was hard to care when his life wasn’t on the line. “Relax. Seriously, you should look into getting meds or something. Being that high-strung all the time is going to kill you.” He must have sensed he was about to be killed, because he quickly added, “It’s big money. No questions asked.”
Both those sentences peaked my interest, and I settled down in my seat, if only a little. “No questions?”
“His words.”
“Because that’s not shady at all,” Fiona said, a frown marring her delicate features. “We don’t need money that badly.”
“Shady? Bit like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” he said. “And don’t you two owe my brother for your renovations?”
We did. Our house had been destroyed by a group of assassins during the Seraphine incident. We could have paid for the repairs ourselves, but it would have drained our savings. Not to mention how long we’d have to wait — we didn’t have enough money, or status, for the repair company to rush. But Adam did. We planned on paying him back despite his claims we didn’t need to, but it was a lot of money. It would take time for us to repay the full amount without going broke.
Damien mumbled something extra I couldn’t quite catch, but there was one word I did hear. “Charlotte.”
I snapped my head up. The last time I’d heard that name, Adam had gotten all weird — flustered, nervous, and a bit angry all at once. Fiona thought she could’ve been an ex-girlfriend, and I thought I’d go crazy if I imagined all the women that had been in his life before me, so I tried to put it out of my mind. I’d done a good job of it, too. Until now.
“What did you say?”
“Just hear him out,” he said. The distinct lack of “Charlotte” told me that wasn’t what he’d been mumbling. “If you’re not interested in the job, you can leave. No fuss.”
I doubted that very much, especially coming from him. I knew from experience that Adam was a strategist, able to pick apart a person’s weakness and use it against them when he needed to. He’d gotten it from his father, he’d told me through gritted teeth, as if I couldn’t have figured that out on my own. There was no way Damien didn’t have the same knack for manipulation, and I couldn’t help feeling like a rat being led into a nasty trap.
Adrienne cleared her throat and stood. “This is all a bit unexpected, isn’t it? Perhaps, Mister Pierce, you’d be so kind as to give us a moment in private?”
“Yeah,” Ollie said before Damien could protest. “We’ll talk in the kitchen. Chocolate scones are on the right side of the display. Take as many as you want.”
I stood on numb legs and followed him into the kitchen. Damien’s eyes followed our movements before he shrugged and strode over to the display. Would he be distracted enough by those scones to notice me sneaking out? His sharp blue eyes glanced at me before the large metal door leading into the kitchen swung shut.
Probably not.
“Explain to me why we had to reconvene here,” Symeon said, leaning near the doorway.
Ollie pointed to the far corner. “There’s caviar in the back.”
“That is a lovely reason.” Symeon sauntered off to find his treats without regard for anything else. He’d be back soon enough, so if we were going to talk about my secret, we’d need to do it fast.
Adrienne frowned. “You don’t serve caviar here.”
“No, but I eat it,” Ollie said before turning to me. “What are you going to do? This is really bad. Or maybe it isn’t — he did say ‘no questions asked.’”
“Which could be code for ‘you’re going to end up in jail without trial,’” Fiona muttered, crossing her arms. “I don’t like this one bit.”
“I thought you liked Damien,” I said. She certainly had an unhealthy attachment to the Witch Mode cover he’d posed shirtless for.
“Hey, I can want to sleep with someone and not like them,” she huffed. “Plus, his Fairy Dew joke didn’t win him any favors.”
Fairy Dew was a popular recreational drug. It had nothing to do with actual fae, but the term had become a vulgar euphemism in the past few years. Almost all fairies hated the term, and most weren’t afraid to show their displeasure.
“It’s comforting to know at least one of you has good taste,” Symeon said, coming back with caviar galore.
“You’re paying for that,” I told him.
“Naturally.” He offered some to Adrienne, who wrinkled her nose. “Not one for indulging in a little cannibalism?”
“It’s hardly cannibalism,” she said. “But I don’t particularly like the taste of fish. Why do you think I live on land?”
I chose not to ask Symeon if he was one for indulging in cannibalism. “Give me an excuse to get out of this.”
“I don’t think there is one.” Wrinkles dug into Adrienne’s forehead as the wheels in her head turned. “He’s done a good job at countering any arguments you have and has likely thought of rebuttals for any you’ll come up with.”
Symeon nodded. “She’s right. There’s no escaping the Pierces, so you may as well make the most of it. I’m surprised, actually. From what I know of Liam Pierce, ‘no questions asked’ is a big deal. The man can whip up a dizzying contract in no time at all.”
“You sound pleased by that,” Ollie said.
“I love a professional man.”
“Or woman. Or turtle,” I said, trying to keep my snark shield up. “That just makes me worry more, though. If he’s such a stickler for detail, why agree to that at all?”
“Well, you are boffing—”
“There is no boffing,” I said quickly.
“Fine.” Symeon sighed and rolled his eyes. “They may not be close, but Adam is his son, and you two are dating. Besides, you never know what can change a man.”
“Not helping.”
“Not really trying to,” he said smoothly. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about what he wants — or what he’s paying?”
Yes and yes. Thanks to Damien’s “slip up,” I was hungry for answers, though not enough to risk everything. Symeon was waiting for my answer, and I was tempted to blurt out I was Fireborn here and now. But I’d already done that twice this month. Revealing to Adam and my friends a secret I’d guarded my entire life felt like tearing out a piece of my soul. There were no better people I could think to share it with, but I hadn’t finished feeling exposed yet.
“Son of a bitch!”
Adam’s voice rang out from the cafe, followed by the sound of crashing chairs. We rushed out to see him holding Damien by the scruff of his shirt. Damien might have appeared complacent, but the scent of pine and jasmine clashed against each other as the brothers’ magic fought for dominance.
I stepped forward to intervene, but Symeon pulled me back. “Best not to get in the middle of brothers, darling. Unless you’re in bed.”
I rolled my eyes but took his advice to heart, though it might have come too late. If this scuffle was any indication, I w
as already between them.
Adam growled out a couple more expletives before the clientele’s stares registered through his anger. He released his brother and shoved him away. Damien appeared collected, but any tracker mage would have noticed his magic roiling around in displeasure. He cracked his neck and walked toward us, Adam hot on his tail.
“You’re not going,” Adam said, coming to take my hand. “I’m sorry this was even brought up.”
He was clearly upset. But it wasn’t until he took my hand and I felt the tension in his muscles that I realized just how bad it was. From here, his magic was a tempest battering against my skin. The last time I’d seen him this upset was when he’d seen the brand on my thigh and learned about my past as a slave. I wanted nothing more than to soothe him, but I didn’t know how.
“That’s not your decision to make,” Damien said, his handsome features turned down.
“It’s not yours, either.”
“No, it’s hers.” He pointed to me. “And don’t get pissy with me because I ‘blindsided’ you. If you stopped ducking dad’s calls, you could’ve told her yourself.”
“I’m not ducking his calls,” Adam snarled, his skin heating up. I was worried he’d shift in the cafe, but he cooled down — physically, at least — before I could voice my concern. “And I wouldn’t have told her, anyway. The answer is no.”
It was sweet the way he tried to protect me. And that’s all I would have thought of it if I hadn’t heard that damned name. Whoever Charlotte was, she’d wormed her way into my brain and wouldn’t leave. Suspicion wiggled out of the hole she’d made, and it made me wonder if Adam wasn’t protesting this for more selfish reasons. I felt guilty as soon as I thought it, but my insecurities were powerful little things, able to lay waste to even the strongest mind.
“You know what’s at stake,” Damien said. If only he’d told me instead of Adam. We might have gotten somewhere by now.
“Don’t—” Adam faltered, his entire body sagging. The action fed my paranoia, and I reached out with my free hand for Fiona. “Don’t put that on me. Why don’t you do it?”
“Because he wants the best. She’s the best. Which we only found out because you hired her in the first place.”
“To find your artifact,” Adam reminded.
The brothers fell into more bickering, and the four of us watched them toss out insults ranging from the absurd to the downright crude.
Symeon was enjoying the show. So was Fiona, though she tried to hide her drama-hungry side in support of me. Adrienne, ever the lady, looked baffled at such a public display of crassness. Ollie was scared, his cider-flavored magic dancing nervously on my tongue. He looked at me as if I could provide answers.
What the hell was I supposed to do? I could try smacking them on the head, but they were both a foot taller than my five foot frame. Maybe I couldn’t think of a solution because my brain was busy figuring out other things. Suspicion, fear, guilt, and a whole jumble of dark emotions warred for my attention, each with their own valid points and hurtful possibilities.
I shook my head, failing to clear any of them out. Whether it was for a chance at finding out what the deal with Charlotte was, to see what was really eating at Adam, or just to make them stop fighting, I made a decision. And like most of the decisions I made, it was probably the wrong one.
“I’ll do it.”
The brothers went quiet at my words, and I wished I could take them back.
“I’ll go see him,” I said, too afraid to utter the Pierce patriarch’s name. “To hear him out. I’m not making any promises. And I want a guarantee that I’ll be allowed to leave without any fuss if I refuse his offer.”
“You mean the guarantee I already made?” Damien asked dryly.
“Make it again,” Fiona said in a menacing whisper.
He arched a brow. “You don’t scare me.”
Apparently, two of us did, because once I joined Fiona in glaring at him, he sighed. “Fine. You have my word — and my father’s — that you’ll be allowed to leave without any problems even if you don’t accept his offer. Happy?”
No, and I didn’t think I’d be happy for a while yet. One look into Adam’s eyes confirmed that. He seemed almost betrayed by my decision. The emotion left his face as quickly as it came, and he turned away from me. I tried to blame the chill I felt on the weather, but Fireborns weren’t affected by temperature.
“I’m coming with her,” Adam said. “We’ll take my jet.”
“Fine,” Damien said. “Tomorrow would be best. Or tonight.”
“Don’t push it,” he said tersely.
“You can talk in the kitchen,” Ollie said in a near squeak. He was trying to split the brothers up but didn’t want to make it obvious. Acting never was his strong suit.
Fortunately, pulling Adam away was becoming mine. I tugged him through the metal doors and into the hazelnut scented kitchen. I kind of wanted to look around for any treats Ollie might have left, but the knot that used to be my stomach wouldn’t be able to hold much.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
He squeezed my hand. “Are you?”
“Your dad will honor his word, won’t he?”
“Probably. Yes,” he said firmly once he looked into my eyes and saw the fear. “He will. He doesn’t give his word lightly. It’ll be okay.”
It sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and all my fears came bubbling back up. Then, he tugged my arm. Our chests bumped gently against each other as he held me against him and pressed a kiss to my temple.
I clung to him for dear life. He still cared. I wanted to rub that fact in my insecurity’s face, but it held so many more cards in its deck. So, I tried to focus on the now, on his arms around me and the taste of his magic on my tongue.
He pulled back to give me a reassuring smile, but it was as weak as the one I gave back to him. Something was off between us, and it had everything to do with this job.
I just hoped it wouldn’t tear us apart.
Chapter Four
Liam Pierce lived in Bayside Hills, the affluent district of Quincy Fields, a magical town in Surrey. I thought it was a bit of a misnomer. There were no bays around, and the incline we drove up to reach his estate barely constituted a hill, but I wasn’t about to bring that up to a man who could have me executed with a snap of his fingers.
Also, his estate looked like Dracula’s summer palace. The sprawling edifice reminded me of a castle town more than a regular home. Thick, dark curtains obscured all the windows, which were so clean I could see my reflection in them. A pair of spiraling staircases on the outside led up to the second floor, which had an open area wide enough to host a small town meeting.
I took in the cold, pale gray stone castle with dread. My Dracula comparison came back, bringing with it glimpses of a stone tower in the distance, obscured by a forest of pine trees. That had been the only part of my kidnapper’s hideout I’d been able to see once we escaped. It must have looked similar to this place — a palace in the middle of the forest, with vampire guards lurking in the woods. I thought I’d made a great comparison, though I wasn’t happy to be making it again. Not here.
At least Mr. Pierce had neighbors, though I was booking it to Pluto if I saw a single hint of fang.
Our flight had been an exercise in great unease. Adam had remained silent the entire time, his bright eyes dimmed as he stared out the window. I had followed suit, trying to discover what could be so interesting about clouds that he could ignore me for hours. When that failed, I thought about practicing my magic. Except I didn’t want to risk blowing up the plane.
I tried sleeping, but I’d grown too used to sleeping with him by my side. I could still sleep alone, but only at home — or whenever Adam wasn’t in the vicinity. After beating myself up over that particular weakness, I discovered we still had another ten hours to go. And Adam was still looking out the window.
He hadn’t slept or eaten through the entire trip. If I hadn’t been l
ooking so carefully, I’d have thought he hadn’t blinked, either. But he did, which surprisingly enough, did nothing to make me feel better. The thought of bailing out and parachuting to freedom had crossed my mind, but we’d been over the ocean when it had, and I was officially done with the ocean this month.
It took me a few hours — and a few bottles of beer — but I’d finally convinced myself that I was indeed a grown woman perfectly capable of providing her own emotional support. I didn’t need Adam to assuage my every fear. I’d been in scary situations before and come out just fine. Of course, I usually had my sister with me for those moments, but she was only a call away. I stared at the plain silver communication ring on my left pinky to avoid looking at the Pierce estate and regretted not calling her on the plane.
An entire plane and car ride of painful silence was enough, I decided. Just because Adam wasn’t speaking didn’t mean I couldn’t. And just because this place looked like it could have been the castle that I’d been locked in as a child didn’t mean I was a prisoner forbidden from uttering a word. That thought spurred me into speaking the most. I had to get thoughts of Nicholas and my forgotten past out of my mind.
“Did your father move here after living in Bordeaux?” I asked, wrinkling my nose at the odd question.
Adam nodded, then remained silent for moment before trying to reconnect. “He moved the year after my mother died. Though I don’t see why it mattered since he decorated this place the exact same way she decorated our home.”
That last sentence came out as a bitter grumble I wasn’t meant to hear. But I did, and it brought me a tiny bit of peace. Adam didn’t have a good relationship with his father. Why? I had no idea, but I’d have to be blind and deaf to not have noticed all the signs. Even during our time in Nice, when he made good on his promise to open up more, he’d been tightlipped about his father. I got the feeling he was happier pretending the man didn’t exist.
I’d learned plenty about his mother, however. Elaine, who must have walked on sunshine and left rainbows wherever she went based on the way he spoke of her. His eyes gleamed with a boyhood joy that made my heart flutter when he told stories about her. She’d passed away from cancer years ago, and I got the feeling that’s when things completely changed between Adam and his father.